


Sticks And Stones May Break My Bones But Whips And Chains Excite Me

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Cronus Being Cronus, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mituna Captor/Kurloz Makara Moirallegiance, Torture, Whump, Whumpaween 2016
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 07:43:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8524423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Alternatively titled: "The instance in which Mituna is kidnapped and everything-like a runaway skateboard-quickly goes downhill from there."





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the coolest meme I know, Rowan.

Falling hurts, that much was obvious from the way Mituna held his knee to his chest, mustard blood trickling slowly down his leg.

“What’s eating you chief?”

It was Cronus, emerging from behind the treeline. Mituna shielded his visor with his free hand, attempting to block out the glare of the Beforus sun.

“Huh? Nothin’s eating me?”

Mituna lifted his bloodied hand, swiveling his head to look over the rest of his body, making sure that nothing had in fact begun eating him.

There wasn’t.

“I swear… no fuckn’ clue… the fuck you talkin’ ‘bout…” Mituna mumbled, stumbling to his feet and brushing himself off.

“Captor you sap, of course I know nothing’s _actually_ eating you. It’s a saying. I was wanting to know what’s wrong with you… besides the obvious of course.”

“No…”

“Hey pal, listen, I’ve been watching you from behind that there bush,” he gestured wildly behind himself, “and there is something seriously, seriously wrong with you… not that there wasn’t already something wrong with you, you’re just more screwed up than usual lately.”

“No!”

Cronus brushed a bit of dirt off Mituna’s shoulder, caressing his arm and resting his hand at Mituna’s elbow.

“You see, I thought someone finally came to their senses and told you you’ve got no place being here.”

Mituna flinched, “I… Don’t touch me,” he tried to pull away but Cronus’ grip was like a vice.

“You’ve got no place fighting with us. You’ll end up cannon fodder at best, and a liability to us all at the worst.”

“No! Stop! Stop touching me!” Mituna tried to squirm from Cronus’ grasp, but to no avail.

“If you don’t smarten up, and hey I’m not even sure if that’s possible anymore, your idiocy is going to screw us all over. How would you feel if your incompetence got your best girl killed? You don’t deserve a girl like that. She’d die for you, you of all people! And it’d be all your fault. I wouldn’t even be surprised if Makara stopped hanging with you-”

Mituna headbutted Cronus, spewing violet blood all over his helmet and visor.

“Fuck you! Fuck fuckin’ bucket lickin’ wader… throb stalk up your chargin’ tunnel! Fuck! Fuck fuck fuckfuck FUCK,” he screamed, slowly backing away from Cronus before grabbing his long-forgotten skateboard and gliding away.

“Yeah, you go and run you pill-headed nitwit!” Cronus called after him weakly, pressing the back of his hand against his nose, “Ingrate…”

Mituna’s foot slapped loudly against the pavement, propelling him forward until he inevitably fell head over heels onto the soft grass of another dream bubble, losing his helmet somewhere in the fall.  However, this time it was not due to his own clumsiness, but rather a strategically placed tripwire. Within seconds, Mituna was hoisted up into the air by a rope net dangling from the outstretched branch of an Earth tree.

Dazed, he stared up at the bright blue sky, through spindly branches and lush green leaves, a soft breeze tousling his sweaty bangs and rustling the leaves overhead. There was a peacefulness to it all, a peacefulness that did not last long.

Three green figures clad in orange and purple bowler hats cautiously approached, hushed whispers passing between them. The smallest one, Clover, cut Mituna down while the other two, Eggs and Biscuits respectively, held him down while smothering him with a sweet-smelling cloth. Mituna tried to struggle, but between the heavy net and the drugs, his movements grew sluggish and even more uncoordinated. It was not long before Mituna stopped moving altogether, and the three felt member dragged him away.

 

* * *

 

When he woke, Mituna found himself suspended by his wrists from the ceiling, bare feet barely brushing the drain beneath him, and a single light bulb casting eerie yellowish light across the concrete room. As his eyes slowly adjusted to the low light of the room, he found yet another green man resting nonchalantly in the farthest, darkest corner of the room, his bodysuit not far off, and a metal cart littered with tools somewhere to his side. Mituna struggled against his restraints, metal digging into the tender flesh of his wrists, nonsensical babble falling from his trembling lips.

Crowbar stepped out from the shadows, brim of his hat pulled down to cover his eyes and a rusty crowbar splattered with multi-coloured blood trailing behind him making a dull metallic sound as it scraped against the uneven cracked floors. Seeing the growing terror of the troll before him only made the smirk on his face grow wider.

“Listen kid, you look like the type that don’t handle pain all too well, so I’m sure you know the drill. Tell me what I want to know and you get to limp out of here alive.”

Crowbar jerked his weapon up from the floor, resting the opposite end threateningly in his free hand, “And if not?  Well then you and me are going to have a problem.”

“No, nononononoo-I don’t-”

With a sickening crack the crowbar collided with Mituna’s bare side, fracturing his lower ribs and earning him a painful cry.

“Didn’t like that answer, and if you keep acting this way, neither of us are going to like us very much. So, what are you planning?”

Mituna shook his head vigorously, yellow tears carving paths down his dirt-stained cheeks, “I don’t know-w,” he stuttered.

Crowbar grabbed Mituna by the chin and forced him to look him in the eye.

“Listen kid, I work for Caliborn himself. So if you don’t like me angry now, you sure as hell don’t want to see him,” he sneered in his ear as the boy trembled beneath him, “I’m only going to ask nicely one more time; what are you worthless sons of bitches plotting?”

“I don’t know,” Mituna stuttered, voice shaky and barely above a whisper.

Crowbar released him, allowing Mituna’s chin to loll back to his chest.

“Okay. Then we’re doing this the hard way.”

Crowbar inspected the metal trolley before him, a wide array of weapons, tools, and beakers laid out and covered in multicolored blood. Of the selection, he chose a dark red bullwhip. Crowbar twirled it above his head once, twice, then snapped it down causing a loud crack to echo through the room.

“Not my weapon of choice,” he made his way behind Mituna, a smirk growing on his face as Mituna struggled against his bindings more desperately than before, “but I think it will do nicely.”

Crowbar cracked the whip, and Mituna cried out in pain, angry yellow marks already beginning to appear on his flesh. He whipped him again, and again, and again, even going as far as to let loose an amused chuckle after Mituna pleaded for him to _“Stop, just-just stop!”_

“I’ll stop when you quit resisting. Tell me what I want to know kid.”

“I don’t understand,” Mituna stuttered, “I don-”

His back arched, legs flexed, and a howl of pain escaped his lips as Crowbar cracked the whip once more, finally breaking the raw hide of his back.

“Hey, I can do this all night, not sure how long you’ll last though.” Then almost as an afterthought he added, “Maybe if I hit you hard enough, it will jar something loose, yeah?”

He pulled his arm back and cracked the whip once more.

 

* * *

 

A scream emanated from the concrete bunker. It was not one of pain, and it was not Mituna’s. No, the scream was one of frustration from Crowbar as he threw his signature weapon across the room, a metallic clang reverberating loudly as the crowbar hit the opposing wall. Mituna was out cold, yellow blood mixing with sweat, flowing down the drain, and Crowbar still knew nothing.

“Fucking idiots,” he murmured to himself, leaning against the bloodied trolley, “of course they find the one soul that don’t know shit.”

A moan escaped Mituna’s lips, and Crowbar spun around to face him, “Maybe the idiot knows something after all… ”

When the only sound that followed were a hiccuping sob, a blind fury filled Crowbar and he swept an arm across the trolley, sending chemical-filled beakers flying in all directions.

Mituna choked out a sob as a spray of chemicals and shattered glass hit his side, and Crowbar swore, holding a bleeding arm to his chest.

“Stupid...stupid... “ he muttered, opening the steel reinforced door that lead outside and slamming it shut behind himself.

Alone, semi-conscious, delirious, and in pain, Mituna found it in himself to make one last effort: to fight the fear that threatened to consume him, fight the chains that had him strung up by his wrists, fight the burning sensation that tried to steal him from consciousness. But with every twist, pull, and strain, wounds reopened and warm blood dripped down his shivering body. Mituna struggled to catch his breath, finding it harder and harder to breathe until he was unable to fight any longer; wet, rapid breaths filled the silence.

“Kurloz… please…"

**Author's Note:**

> Orphaned because it's shit imo, but I hate when authors delete their works because sometimes people love it despite how shit they think it might be.


End file.
